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Pumpkin King Apr 2016
My howl… Is not a cry of desperation
It is not an attempt to chase away separation
It is not a drunken cry of remnants from the bar
It is not a rock and roll crazed imitation
Then why howl if not to be the known?
To howl is my soul crying out in resonation
You don’t hear it
For it is a resonation not on the outside but within
The veil between human and beast growing thinner and thin
Changing me from what I have been
Can you see it?
Can you taste it?
Can you smell it?
Can you feel it?
Yes?
No?
Maybe?
So!?
To howl has purpose and standing
Not fear
It’s pride And joy
blood sweat and tears
It’s passion and power and rage
but in bliss
I’m not the only one who can howl as they please
For anyone can howl even on their knees
In ancient rome it was the Trojan’s battle cry
And at my best friend’s house
It’s roast beef and turkey and mustard on rye
It’s an eagle soaring high In the sky
It’s an ordinary person
Starring death in it’s cold eyes
It’s the courage to face the noise
Of their fire
Their fire
Their fire
Burning us
But our fire
Our fire
Inside and alive
Smolders and burns the judgment away
They say you are a fool
If with fire you play
But they do not know
That we are the fire!!!
Brighter than the sun
Dangerous to all
So we howl
In pride
We howl
with joy
we howl
in unison
and our pack shall rise as one
feed me to the wolves and i'll end up leading the pack
Pumpkin King Apr 2016
Broken down and shaken up my life here is an empty cup…
Dreams shattered… knowing something’s there…
But yet I’m still broken…
My mind.. a war zone of broken bones and ****** tears….
Fighting the past but yet being overcome.. by my past and my mistakes…
One by one… my resolve is undone… not even caring… because the oven says I’m done…
The empt7y shell cracks and withers away..
The shell that used to be me..
But now I’m twisted image…. Everyone is disappointed to see….
Molded by society… this cage and shadow so cold…
So far there are too many cracks in this withering shell for their liguid trust to be holden…
For their love, trust and admirations are too golden….
For my wrotting insides to have beholden…
He looks down on me… smiles but yet goes to the accusor’s table… and riddles out my plee…
In terms that these constricting chains don’t speak, feel or hear….
For I am no one…
And I am lost in no man’s land….
They say,to let your conscience be your guide but what use is it when your mind is too damaged by those hurting words that mommy and daddy forget that they spoke and think my plans for life are just one big blasted joke……
I feel  like I’m being choked…
Choked by the endless knotted rope of the anticipating uncontrolled stroke...
When life hits me hard and knocks me down on my backside and keeps blaring the white twisted noise…
Become the nightmarish reality of my creative dream…
my dream of to imagine a heavy bass cannon
and keep going no matter how crazy or stupid it seemed
when the cage’s copper wires closed in and squeezed my heart out of my head and into my hands…
where it slipped and fell like mistakenly placed pots and pans…
He said to look at my own two hands…
that they weren’t my hands but what he related to a zombie’s missing pair…
he never tried to understand, how I try to put two and two together and ponder why I never ended up with four…
to see that  under this smile there is a broke down, bent out of shape lost boy…
that just wants to see his father smile and truly be proud of what he brought to the table…
Not just the countless cp’s and the umpteenth e-mail that states my “struggles” of the week….
No not just the problems that everybody else’s parents don’t know what to do with….
I want them to see the potential in me and step back and let me set it free….
Instead of  putting me down and pressing me hard with their disapproving gaze that bends and breaks my resolve to do at least something right and drains me of me…
replaces the emptiness with what’s not me and walks in the shadows and builds up the signature monster personality..
until they find their son through the darkness…
the darkness that’s not their lost and alone son that they know has talent and potential…
but the monster that was imprinted from all the questioning thoughts that conjured because they forgot to ponder how their lost and alone son…
added two and two together..
but somehow never got four.....
like a steak… my soul’s skin has been seared and cooked… sealed and locked…
never again to grow and learn….
And forever more the lost and alone two year old…
Splashing in that same puddle of mistakes…
And as time goes on… the two year old stays a two year old..
And as time goes on.. the puddle becomes a pool…
That pool becomes a brook… that brook becomes a stream…
And eventually as time goes on and countless mistakes are added to what once was a puddle..
And now is an obsidian dense ocean…. Where that same two year old is engulfed in and is not seen as the two year old he truly is as his actions and appearance continue to show….
But is perceived as the ocean he is consumed by… the mistakes sealing the split cracks and missing pieces… that he was forced to leave behind to force the image of himself he ever so wanted to show….
Disappointment after disappointment the two year old sees….
His resolve engine is running out of steam…
The two year old sees the endless darkness at the end of his hopeless tunnel..
The torment..
The fury..
The  me that’s not me...
And let’s the ocean consume the seared and resolve empty shell that floated not into satisfaction… but plummitted down into the false but real fate
it's hard to meet other's expectations, but almost impossible to meet your own
Pumpkin King Apr 2016
You parade your newest relationship of the week as if we never existed…
And then you think I’m supposed to approve of the guy you supposedly “love” when you said that those two days ago with someone else
I’m supposed to be your best friend…
But when I say hi in the hall…
You don’t even acknowledge me at all…
You expect me to pick you up every time you fall…
But while I’m falling infinitely…
You skip and jump and laugh as if this is what you wanted…
That this is the way it should be…
I loved you…
I cared for you…
I picked you up, dusted yourself off and told you to keep on chuggin’…
But when I need a hand…
When I scream for help from within..?
You walk past me, steady mean muggin’…
I am hurt…
Shocked and appalled…
Holding back my tears as if I did you wrong…
But you reap what you sew…
See, I was there for you, and you said you’d be there for me…
But where are you now..?
Soaked up in self-hate and self-loathing so much that that is all you cause…
Meanwhile near,
No wait,
Past desperate to find any old rag of a guy who just wants you for your body…
To use you…
To hurt you and to abuse you…
And then when he leaves…
You’ll turn back around and seek understanding and friendship and love…
But then left with the fact that you pushed everyone away …
Not I…
Not your “dear friends” who you left hangin’ every time you got a chance to…
But you…
Because your evil has finally caught up to you…
The poison you slipped us will end up in your mixed drink of lies and deception…
You say you’re broken by your father figure leaving you…
Deserted you and never looked back…
You should try practicing your so called beliefs...
Cause’ I got news for you…
You've become the very thing you swore up and down you would destroy…
And I don’t know what you’re goin’ to do about it…
Because our relationship is to the point of now or never…
The body bends until it breaks…
How much of my pain and my hurt are you ready to take..?
for the first woman i gave everything to
Pumpkin King Apr 2016
Society is a paradox within itself…
Holding up the standard for us to be good little children in order for us to qualify…
And though we tear out our hair and cry at night trying to fit the mold of society’s standards…
The world is still a mess worse than what we started from….
But enough is enough…
The good little child in me is gone…
It was taken away…
And tormented until his right actions started to turn wrong…
Heavy chains wrapped around him…
And dragged him down a dark hole…
He tried to shake these chains that are pulling him down….
Restricting him…
Forcing him…
Making him frown…
But while other people are chasing the stairway to heaven,
I’m spiraling downward…
Falling faster passed negative eleven…
While you people see society as a chance at hope,
I see an infinite ocean of fire and brimstone…
While some people band together,
Trying to fight this damnation with the fight that they know…
I walk the road of this nether…
Drained of my fight…
Bound to my tormenting
That squeezes me vice grip tight….
I am alone…
Broken…
Tortured beyond the unknown….
Hollowed out and only held together by my bruised bloodied skin
And my crushed and broken bones…
See this smile I wear…
Is just a mask
My lovely positive personality is a thing of the past…
Now you shall see what kind of shadows I cast….
For my soul is filled with this fiery wrath…
This fire
Hell fire
Built up has it been
This fire
Hell fire
Burns from within
My patience for haters is growing quite thin
This wrath and rage is making my head spin…
For a nightmarish creature dwells in my den….
It waits, prowls, pounces ….
I’m pinned!....
It drains the tolerant side of me
And then howls with the wind…
It greets the other side of me,
And asks it where’ve you been?
I shrug off his question and join forces with him,
For we are an identical force…
Unstoppable twins, both me and him…
So I end with these questions…
If you’re still alive…
What demons are dancing in your den..?
And will your better half survive..?
a speech from the monster within me
Pumpkin King Apr 2016
Its midnight…
And everyone but me is ‘sleep tight…
I wander my mind in the middle of the night…
Questioning myself…
Tryin’ to find the answer…
To why I just can’t see the light…
For the first time in my life…
I finally slept peacefully…
On that one, wandering night…
For I found the one answer…
The answer that holds on to my soul tight…
This answer was one that I feared for many years…
I pushed it to the back of my mind…
And yet I was still wondering why all the migraine headaches…
And all the pain filled tears...
Came rushing to my body’s door…
Like their only option was to somehow tear their way in…
My heart whispers to my mind…
This is the way it should be…
But then my mind asks back…
What did I do???
What did I say???
How do I deserve this???
This shouldn’t be this way!!!
My heart never replies…
And my mind finally understands…
The skeletons in my closet,
And the demons dancing in my den…
Have gone far too long…
From taking the back their revenge…
I can feel it taking over me …
All the wrath…
And all their rage…
Built up inside…
My soul as their cage…
How some people said let’s just turn the page…
And skip over the stories of other’s lives…
Just ‘cause the content they held might have given them goose bumps worse than hives…
Long story short…
I never really belonged  anywhere the light shined…
But always in the gallows…
Not in front of some perfect vase not cracked…
But behind…
We live in a day and age…
Where no one will be your head…
And no one will be your heart…
But where my heart should be..?
Is a gaping hole…
My spirit has been hollowed…
And then filled with darkness…
Shadows untold…
These dark beings…
They pour themselves into me…
And then like a liquid,
Fill my body’s mold…
Their touch is frost bitten cold…
But yet my body blazes with heat…
Generated from the strife inside their departed souls…
Everyone is born with their own curse…
And I’m not alone…
I have the shadows on my side…
And on the darkest side of the moon…
My soul resides…
So whomever did these demons wrong…
Their undoing won’t take long…
For this is the price that sinners pay….
It would always end this way…
free will is a blessing that comes with destiny as a curse
Pumpkin King Apr 2016
When I think of soul food…
I don’t think of my great grandmother’s collard greens,
Or her delicious black eyed peas…
But instead of the black eyes that the slave masters gave the rebels…
Whose blood lines lead to me…
When I think of culture and song….
I do not think of our young black girls throwin’ it back in a circle…
Or black thirteen year olds contemplating whether or not they should wear that extra tight thong…
When I think of our women …
I remember the hard workers and the change makers…
Not the club hoppers and the rain makers….
I don’t know what you remember about our history…
But what I remember…?
I remember the long nights and the rainy days…
The colored only signs and the church hymns that were meant to break these chains…
As I recall..
All of our ancestors bleed their blood…
And shed their tears…
Took the wrongness…
And the noise that the cat of nine tails upon their back they did hear …
So that for us later generations...
The world would be a much better place…
So my question to you is why are we increasing the negative pace?!?!
One step forward and three steps back….
I don’t know about you…
But my grandfather told me we should be one as a pack…
Unbound from our chains…
UNIFIED AND BLACK!!!
I know you have more fight in you than that!!!
Come on and show the world what you’ve got…
Because the world doesn’t go round ’cause of underage youth’s highs on ***…
Our men locked up in jail…
All because of the “suspicious” things they do
And the socially Darwinised stereotype that our race is going to fail…
I am here to influence my generation…
So how hard are we going to fight for our emancipation?!?!
Let’s stop the domino affect…
And start a new…
Because how far our race goes up or down…?
It’s all up to you….
Please review!!!
we are the future, so we need to act like it
Pumpkin King Apr 2016
Hello there!!!
I’m Jordan…
And I am the weird one…
I can scream like a banshee…
My go to would be Reese’s pieces when I’m stressed…
And I will eat box after box of them if I need to…
My taste in music is a bit blended up you could say…
Genres from death metal to dubstep to classical…
Inside my head their melodies they play…
What can I say?
Music is my life…
And when I’m broken hearted?
I pretend that the dancing lyrics are my non-existent wife…
The melody her face…
The chorus her midsection…
And the pounding bass her awkward flailing ligaments…
But sometimes that picture doesn’t appear in my mind…
So I dissolution myself by sketching and writing my fantasies that reach deeper and farther than any of all of the seas…
And I do this because it’s my only escape from reality…
‘Cause life ain’t all it’s cracked up to be…
The key to life is not success…
Or at least I see the people that lie cheat and scheme on the top…
And the innocent people who were fooled about how it’s always greener on the other side…
Bound up in chains and shoved to the media as busted disgusted and cannot under any circumstances be trusted…
And maybe my vision is a little distorted…
But I don’t think I see white men and women except for Justin Bieber threatened with being deported
And the last time I checked real love isn’t sunshine and lollipops…
Not even rainbows or unicorns…
But instead hard work and determination…
Blood sweat and tears…
I try and patch up the rest of societies misfits…
Working on them trying to turn their monotone frowns into faces of joy…
Cause the last time I heard..?
No one will ever want a broken toy….
And that’s another thing society…
Are all of us just wind up figurines that are built to run out of the number of tics way before we get to the place our destiny calls us to be…?
Cause you keep twisting and contorting my back…
But I’m on hundred and ten percent sure I do not have a wind up key…
Oh and society,
The stereotype that people who wear all black and mope all day are a nuisance is a big fat lie…
We wear all black because we see the whole that u plan to bury us in…
And we mope all day because no matter what we do or what we say…
The inevitable truth is…
We knew it would always end this way…
That life a rigged game that we are cheated out of until our only option is to sell ourselves by it’s standards…
And throw what’s inside of us away…
Right like what we have to offer the world is garbage…
See, I am African American…
Or should I say black and proud…
Although I am the whitest black kid u will ever meet…
I scream to the roof tops I’m awkward and I know it!!!
And when I “turn up”..?
It looks like I’m having a muscle spasm laced with a seizure…
No wonder I’m so into the Harlem shake…
I translate the word rawr as I love you in dinosaur…
And I can drink a 2 liter in 19.5 seconds…
But let’s face it…
Cause obviously there’s no escaping it…
And there’s no point in faking it…
Because that will just end up in me throwing it down a break it…
Yes I am Jordan Isaiah Mitchell…
And I know for sure…
That I am weird…
a little description of my unusual self
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